


He ain't heavy

by BearlyWriting



Series: DC Kinkmeme [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Alpha Roman Sionis, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Biting, Blood, Bottom Jason Todd, Bottom Jason Todd Week, Forced Orgasm, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Mutual Non-Con, No Lube, Non-Consensual Filming, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Non-Consensual Touching, Non-Consensual Voyeurism, Omega Jason Todd, Omega Tim Drake, Top Tim Drake, Vaginal Sex, Vomiting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-14
Updated: 2020-08-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:34:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25902907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BearlyWriting/pseuds/BearlyWriting
Summary: For the DC Kinkmeme prompt:Jason and Tim are in the clutches of a villain together and the villain demands that the two of them provide some entertainment by fucking each other or risk some form of punishment.Also, for BJTW day four: Fuck or Die."And that’s the crux of it. Because what Roman is suggesting -demanding- is sick and twisted and awful, but it’s a hundred times better than having to watch the slathering alphas in the room rape Tim. Jason can smell the heavy alpha arousal in the air, hear their excited breathing. He knows that letting them touch either of them would be a total disaster. At least this way, Tim won’t get hurt."
Relationships: Both of those are forced, Tim Drake & Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Jason Todd, Tim Drake/Jason Todd/Roman Sionis
Series: DC Kinkmeme [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1742962
Comments: 22
Kudos: 145
Collections: Bottom Jason Todd Week 2020





	He ain't heavy

**Author's Note:**

> Please heed the tags! This whole fic is basically one graphic mutual rape scene, if that is going to bother you at all, please don't read this!
> 
> Although this is tagged as Tim/Jason/Roman, Roman does not actually fuck either of them. I've tagged it to be safe because Roman is directing the action and because he does touch both Tim and Jason sexually (against their will). Please let me know if you don't agree with this tag or if you think there are any tags I've missed!
> 
> Here is the full prompt:
> 
> _Jason and Tim are in the clutches of a villain together—Slade, Ra’s, Lex, Roman, Bane, Joker, etc.—and the villain demands that the two of them provide some entertainment by fucking each other or risk some form of punishment_
> 
> _+a crowd of underlings with weapons trained on the boys are present to force compliance  
>  +villain keeps a running commentary and gives orders on what to do   
> +the punishment they’re averting is being thrown to the goons and gang raped  
> +Tim ends up topping or topping from the bottom  
> +Jason and Tim are being as gentle and kind to each other as they can manage  
> +the two of them are on camera and they know it  
> +prior sexual and/or romantic relationship between Jason and Tim optional  
> +AOB with Tim and Jason as omegas at the mercy of an alpha villain welcome but entirely up to filler_

Tim shouldn’t be here. It’s all Jason can really think, through the panic and anger. This is Jason’s case. Jason’s adversary. Jason’s _fucking_ problem. Tim had only been tagging along because Jason had wanted him there. It had been a slow case and, now that Jason is getting along better with everyone, he likes not having to work alone.

He likes Tim. Likes hanging out with the kid. Likes his company. And he’s smart. It wasn’t as if Jason needed him, but the case had definitely been going a lot quicker with Red Robin on his side.

Then it had all gone tits up in the most spectacular way possible. And now Tim is _here_ , kneeling on the floor, surrounded by a crowd of excited alphas with their guns pointed at his head, and he _shouldn’t be_.

“What the hell do you want, Roman,” Jason snarls. 

Roman smiles - or Jason thinks he smiles, it’s hard to tell behind the mask - and spreads his hands in a casual gesture that has Jason grinding his teeth.

“What do I ever want, sweetheart? I want a little fun.” He tilts his head, looking between Jason and Tim where they kneel at his feet. “I found out a fun fact about you, Hood. A little birdy told me you were an omega.”

Fuck. 

That’s...not good. There’s a reason Jason keeps his orientation hidden - a reason why Batman has drilled into them all from a very early age that scent blockers are an essential part of the uniform, that taking time off for a heat or a rut or taking suppressants to prevent them is as vital as any of the training they do. If people know your orientation, they know how to exploit it - and Black Mask is the last person Jason would want to have that sort of information about him. With Jason’s build and attitude, most people assume he’s an alpha and he’s happy not to correct that. People are less likely to fuck with him as an alpha, less likely to assume he’s weak or _easy_. But if Roman _knows_ he’s an omega...well, it means there isn’t much point in pretending.

It also means that this showdown isn’t likely to just end in a beating, but Jason is trying very hard not to think about that.

“Don’t you think that’s interesting?” Roman asks, his tone still perfectly casual, as if he’s asking about the weather. His eyes are on Tim and the other omega bristles at the question but doesn’t answer. “My men certainly do. They’re always eager for a little action, after all. This can be a thankless job. A feisty omega like Hood practically falling into their laps? Well, you can’t blame them for wanting a taste.”

Jason can’t help shivering at the threat. Can’t help ducking his head in a gesture that he knows screams _omega_ but that he can’t seem to stop. If Jason doesn’t find a way out of this, Roman is going to let the alphas in the room at him and Jason knows he can’t fight them all off. Not without his weapons, not with all the guns pointed at them and Tim as a hostage.

Hopelessness blooms in his chest, crawls up his throat and chokes him. Roman just keeps smiling, a sharp glint in his eye that tells Jason he’s enjoying this, the bastard. 

“And, my, you seem to have brought along a little friend. Is he an omega too?”

Before either of them can reply to that, Roman steps right up to Tim and drops into a crouch in front of him. Tim tenses, muscles bunching beneath his uniform, and Jason can see the effort it takes him not to attack.

Roman either doesn’t notice or doesn’t care. Either way, he reaches out and tugs at the neck of Tim’s uniform, pulling it away from his skin. Jason growls an automatic warning but Roman ignores that too. Gloved fingers catch at the scent blocker beneath Tim’s jaw before peeling it away, agonisingly slowly. Jason is too far away to really catch Tim’s scent, with only one blocker removed, but he can see the way Roman inhales, can imagine exactly what he’s smelling - coffee and walnuts and warm metal and _omega_. 

Fuck. Somehow, this has spiralled totally out of Jason’s control. This is more than just a mission going wrong. Both he and Tim are in serious danger here and Jason doesn’t know how to get them out of it.

If he can get to his jacket, which he’d been stripped of as soon as he was overpowered, he could take some of the alphas by surprise, but there are so many of them. If Jason were alone, he might take the risk of death over whatever awful thing Black Mask has planned, but he isn’t alone and Jason absolutely does not want to get Tim killed. Not anymore. If only because the rest of his pack would be utterly insufferable if he did.

“Look at that,” Roman exclaims, saccharine delight in his voice. “Are all the bats omegas or did we just get lucky?”

“You’ll be lucky if I don’t fill that stupid mask with lead,” Jason growls. It isn’t exactly his most inspired threat but, to be fair to Jason, panic is starting to set in. The only thing worse than Roman knowing Jason’s orientation, is Roman knowing Tim’s.

Roman just tuts. “So butch, Hood. But then, I suppose you can’t expect much from a street rat whore, can you? You need us alphas to put you in your place, huh?”

Jason snarls. It’s the sort of sound an alpha would make. Jason has been practicing it since he was nine, young and vulnerable and alone on the streets.

“No,” he spits. “I don’t.”

“Okay,” Roman says, easily. Too easily. “How about a deal? My men won’t touch either you or your pretty little omega friend…”

“And what’s the catch?” Tim asks, his voice is softer than Jason’s but clear and Jason can hear the anger in it. Anger is better than fear at least.

“No catch, darling, just an offer. We won’t touch either of you if you put that little omega cock to use. I want a show, baby, I want to see you fuck Hood.”

The emotion that rushes through Jason is a strange mix - disgust, revulsion, icy horror, and, strangely, relief. Because what Roman is suggesting is horrific, _disgusting_ , but if it means that Roman and the other alphas won’t touch Tim...well, Jason would do a lot of nasty shit to keep Tim safe.

By the expression on Tim’s face, he doesn’t agree with Jason’s sentiments. His already pale skin has gone white. A muscle in his jaw twitches. Jason can see his throat work as he swallows hard. He looks sick. _Horrified._

The relief in Jason’s gut curdles.

“No,” Tim gasps, jerking away from Roman, one hand coming up to layer over the bare skin of his neck. “What the fuck? I won’t.“

Roman lets him pull away. He shrugs, seemingly unconcerned by Tim’s fervent rejection. “Whatever you say. It isn’t every day you get to see some omega-on-omega action, but I won’t say that the alternative isn’t also fun.”

“Fuck you,” Tim snarls. “You -”

“Tim.”

Tim goes abruptly silent at the sound of his name. He turns to Jason, eyes wide behind his domino and Jason can see the fear on his face. Because he knows - he knows that Jason is going to ask him to do this. Tim is smart. He must be able to tell from the expression on Jason’s face, from the acquiescence in his body, from the fact that he had used Tim’s real name.

“No,” he says again. “You can’t be serious, _Hood_. We _can’t_. I won’t do it.”

“I won’t let them touch you,” Jason snarls, anger and panic burning hot in his chest, choking the words as they squeeze out of his throat. “If this is the only other option…”

Tim looks at him as if he’s grown a second head. “It isn’t an option.” And there’s a high, hysterical edge to his voice. “ _Raping_ you is not an option!”

“Tim -”

“This is boring,” Roman says. “If you aren’t going to do it…”

There’s a shuffle of feet as some of the alphas move closer - a sudden heaviness to the air as the alpha scent in the room thickens. The smell of their arousal is acrid in Jason’s nose.

“No,” he says, quickly. “No, we’ll do it. Tim, _please_ , don’t, please don’t make me force you.”

If Tim makes him, he will. It’s a sick, disgusting thought. It goes against everything Jason has ever stood for, but if it means keeping the alphas in the room from forcing Tim, he’ll do it. 

Maybe Jason came back more fucked up than he thought. All the pimps and pedos and rapists he’s killed and now Jason is no better than any of them.

Tim just stares at him, a sick twist to his mouth. Then he drops his head, as if he suddenly can’t bear to look at Jason - and that’s fair. If they get out of this, the slowly-healing bonds with the rest of the bats will be fractured forever and Jason deserves that. He deserves Tim’s hatred and disgust because he can’t think of a way out of this. He can’t stop this from happening.

Roman’s delighted clap is loud in the tense silence.

“I knew you’d see sense,” he says, delighted glee in his voice. “I really was too easy on you. Now, masks off, clothes off, scent blockers off. I wanna see you two put on a show, pretty birdies. Make it good, yeah? Otherwise there’s plenty of alphas in here who’d love to get their knots wet.”

And that’s the crux of it. Because what Roman is suggesting - _demanding_ \- is sick and twisted and awful, but it’s a hundred times better than having to watch the slathering alphas in the room rape Tim. Jason can smell the heavy alpha arousal in the air, hear their excited breathing. He knows that letting them touch either of them would be a total disaster. At least this way, Tim won’t get hurt.

Jason pulls his clothes off with brisk efficiency - his shirt, his boots, his pants - not giving himself enough time to think about the eyes on him, the way every lost article of clothing bares more of his skin to the room. He hesitates at his boxers - that last scant protection - before pulling them off too, twisting awkwardly to stay on his knees. The mask comes last and maybe Jason should care more about that but Black Mask discovering his identity is the last concern Jason has at the moment. Given everything else the man seems to know about him, Jason wouldn’t be surprised if he already knew it.

The rustle of fabric beside him suggests Tim is doing the same but Jason can’t bring himself to look. Despite everything they’re about to do to each other, it feels like too much of a violation. It's nothing in the grand scheme of things but Jason wants to give Tim this.

So he just works on peeling his scent blockers off. He can smell the bloom of scent each time he removes one, filling the air around him with the metallic tang of fear and anger. He can smell Tim too: coffee-walnut-metal. The distress in the other omega’s scent is strong enough to raise goosebumps across Jason’s skin.

“Good boys,” Roman purrs and Jason has to swallow against the nausea rolling in his stomach. This is happening. Both he and Tim are naked in a room full of alphas, at the mercy of _Black Mask_ of all people. This is happening.

“You’re going to have to get harder than that though, Timmy.”

“Fuck you,” Tim says, again, considerably weaker this time. Jason still can’t bring himself to look at him, but he can hear the soft sound of Tim touching himself. Can hear the little whimper it elicits.

“Stand up,” Roman says suddenly and his voice is a little heavier now, a little thicker. Jason decidedly doesn’t think about why that is. “I want to get a good shot of this.”

That has Jason’s head snapping over to the alpha. Roman has one hand over his crotch, palming at himself through the material of his slacks. The other hand hangs loosely at his side. The alpha beside him, though, is holding something small and metallic at chest height, pointed at where the two of them are kneeling on the floor.

A camera. Of course it’s a camera. Roman wouldn’t force the two of them to do something as sick and twisted as this without making sure he has some evidence of it. Helpless fury tightens Jason’s throat. God, how he wants to lunge at the alphas, tear the camera from their filthy hands and smash it to pieces on the concrete. God, how he doesn’t want to be here.

Instead, Jason just kneels there, glaring darkly, doing _nothing_. Beside him, he can feel Tim getting to his feet.

“You’re a sick freak, Roman,” Jason snarls. His voice is only slightly stronger than Tim’s.

“Hey, I’m not the one that’s going to fuck my little brother. Although, it looks like baby birdy might need some encouragement. The thought of fucking big brother isn’t enough?”

God. Bile burns hot at the back of Jason’s throat. He still doesn’t want to look at Tim but he can’t stop himself. Sure, he’s seen Tim naked before - brief glances in the showers after patrol and little flashes of flesh during uniform changes - but never like this. Never so...purposeful, with the awful intention behind it.

In the fluorescent light of the warehouse, Tim’s skin looks so pale he’s almost glowing. His cock hangs limp between his legs, obscuring everything tucked away behind it. It’s flaccid. Of course it’s flaccid. Jason can tell, even with the hand Tim has wrapped around himself, futilely attempting to get himself hard. The thought of having to do anything with Jason, with Roman and the other alphas watching them, their eyes heavy against his skin, the scent of their arousal thick in the air, must be as repulsive to Tim as it is to Jason.

Against his thigh, Tim’s free hand flexes into a fist. He’s grimacing, his face tense with repulsion, his eyes squeezed shut. At Roman’s words, he bares his teeth in the start of a snarl.

“I don’t -“ he growls before cutting himself off with a hard swallow. His eyes snap open and flicker to Jason before just as quickly jumping away.

“Seems like you do, sweetheart. I don’t have the patience to sit here watching you chafe your dick. Why doesn’t big brother get over there and help you out, huh?”

It isn’t a question. Jason moves to obey before Roman can use his hesitance as an excuse to hurt Tim, shuffling forward on his knees. He knows what Roman is expecting of him and the thought sits heavy and painful in his stomach but, God, he doesn’t want to find out what will happen if Tim can’t get it up. He doesn’t want to give Roman the excuse to drop the leash he’s holding over the other alphas in the room.

So, despite the nausea that’s churning in his gut, Jason reaches out one hand, resting it gently on the top of Tim’s thigh. Muscle jumps beneath his palm. Tim’s skin is cool and smooth and Jason hates this. He _hates_ it.

They aren’t _actually_ brothers, Jason tells himself. Despite what Roman said. There’s no blood relation between them. There’s barely even non-blood relation. It’s not as if they had grown up together, after all. And yet, they are family - if only in the barest sense of the word. And even if they weren’t, even if they were utter strangers to each other this is still _wrong_. Forcing himself on Tim when they’re both under duress, when the kid so clearly doesn’t want it - when _Jason_ doesn’t want it and this would never be happening without Roman pulling the strings - it goes against everything Jason stands for.

It’s still better than the alternative.

“Tim,” Jason breathes, daring to look up at Tim’s face, searching his expression for - what? permission? _consent_? What a fucking joke. Tim isn’t even looking at him, his eyes fixed somewhere over Jason’s head, his jaw so tense that Jason can see the muscle twitching.

Jason is grateful, at least, that it’s him on his knees. As much as he knows this is still hurting Tim, he can’t imagine it being reversed. If it was Tim, kneeling at Jason’s feet, looking small and fragile next to Jason’s bulk, he doesn’t know if he’d be able to do this.

When Tim lets go of himself, hand dropping to rest limply at his side, Jason still isn’t sure if he can. In the grand scheme of things, a handjob isn’t the hardest thing Jason has done. He’s given plenty of them before and he knows that Roman will have them doing far worse than this. Still, the thought of touching Tim like that - of actually participating in Roman’s fucked up little fantasy - seems suddenly too terrible to bear.

Except, he has to.

Jason shifts his hand as slowly as he thinks he can get away with. Tries to ignore the way it’s trembling. Tries to ignore the way Tim is trembling, too, his skin twitching under the light brush of Jason’s palm. When Jason finally _touches_ him, fingers wrapping gently around Tim’s soft length, the other omega flinches and Jason has to swallow against a sudden surge of bile. He can’t look at Tim, can’t look at his hand and what it’s being forced to do either. Stares blankly at the floor between Tim’s feet.

He can do this. He’s done it a thousand times before - to himself and to others. If he just disconnects himself from this - from the fact that it’s _his_ hand doing this to Tim - then he’ll get through it.

He only manages two careful strokes before Roman interrupts. 

“Uh uh, Hood. That’s not what I meant. If little birdy needed a handsie, he could do it himself.”

Jason’s hand stills. Above him, Tim makes a soft little sound that Jason is sure he wasn’t supposed to hear. It makes Jason’s chest hurt. He snarls. He knows exactly what Roman is talking about and based on the burst of bitter scent from Tim, he does as well. It doesn’t make the thought any easier.

“Come on, Hood. I’m sure you’ve put that mouth to use plenty of times before.”

Jason swallows hard against the anger burning hot in his chest. He should have known this was coming but it still feels like a blow. It’s true - Jason has sucked plenty of cock before. None of it had been particularly pleasant. He doubts this will be any better.

He shuffles a little closer, shifting his hand to Tim’s hips to give himself the access he needs to reach with his mouth. The kid flinches again at the movement and starts to step back before Jason’s grip on his hips stops him. And, God, that makes Jason feel like shit. He _is_ shit. Only the lowest of the low would force themselves on someone like this. If he were better, Jason would have found a way out by now. No way Batman or the golden boy would have lain down and accepted this.

“I’m sorry,” he manages, fighting through the self-loathing that’s stoppering his throat. Tim’s skin prickles at each puff of breath, goosebumps shivering into life over his thighs. “God, I’m sorry, Tim.”

“Don’t,” Tim snaps above him. “Jay, don’t -“

Jason has no idea whether Tim is telling him not to apologise or not to do this at all. He doesn’t give him the chance to finish because either way, he doesn’t think he can hear it and still do this. The thread he’s holding on by is so fucking thin. So Jason cuts him off by leaning in and pressing damp lips to the head of Tim’s soft cock.

Tim cuts off with a gasp. One of his hands jerks up, as if he wants to grab at Jason but thinks better of it. Jason ignores it. Stares blankly at the pale skin of Tim’s stomach as he laves a wet circle over the head of his cock before sucking the whole thing gently into his mouth.

He’s done this before, with far worse people than Tim. Tim tastes like soap and fabric softener and he isn’t grabbing at Jason’s hair and forcing him down and he isn’t saying nasty fucking shit about how much of a slut Jason is or how much he must want his cock. 

Except...it’s _Tim_ , Jason’s maybe-not-quite-brother, maybe-friend and Jason has his fucking cock in his mouth and this is ruining _everything_.

“That’s it,” Roman breathes and Jason almost gags. It’s not like he could forget the alpha is here, but he doesn’t appreciate the reminder. “Get closer, I want a good angle of this.”

Jason could do without that reminder either. There’s a shuffle of footsteps and a sudden swell of scent as one of Roman’s goons moves to obey. Jason shuts his eyes, so he doesn’t have to see the camera being pointed at his face. A whine tries to climb up his throat, the stupid little omega in him reacting to the fear in the air - both his and Tim’s - the thick scent of aroused alpha and the cock resting heavy on his tongue. Jason tightens his throat against it, sucking at Tim in soft, wet pulses, purposefully not reacting to any of the alphas in the room.

Tim makes a strangled little sound and Jason can feel him twitch against his tongue. His hands flutter around Jason, touching his hair, his jaw, his shoulder, before flitting away again, as if Tim is afraid he’ll react badly to the contact. It takes a few long, tense minutes before Tim starts to swell, his penis stiffening in Jason’s mouth. Jason keeps sucking, bobbing his head a little, swirling his tongue every time he reaches the tip. He hates this, he _hates_ this, but he’s glad for it too. He doesn’t know what Roman would suggest if Tim couldn’t get hard - if he would force Jason to do it in his place, or maybe just throw them both to his goons. Either way, Jason is infinitely glad he won’t have to find out.

“That’s it, baby,” Roman coos and Jason has no idea which one of them he’s talking to, but he wishes he would stop. “Good boy.”

The words send a shiver of disgust down Jason’s spine. Tim’s hand finally settles, then, cupping the back of Jason’s neck in a reassuring hold. An alpha might tighten their grip a little - enough to force a scruff, to have Jason going limp and pliant in their grasp, even if he didn’t want to - but Tim just rests his palm there. Like it might offer Jason some sort of protection from the eyes on him. 

Christ, Tim doesn’t deserve this. He’s too _soft_ for this. Which is maybe a stupid thing to think about a kid who’d figured out _Batman’s_ true identity and practically forced him to take him as a sidekick as a teenager. But Jason can’t help it. He’s going to break him.

Eventually, Tim gets fully hard, thick and blood hot on Jason’s tongue. Jason wraps a hand around the base of his cock and starts bobbing his head in earnest. Tim isn’t as big as an alpha might be, but he’s bigger than the average omega - bigger than most betas too, probably - and Jason is starting to worry a little bit. This is going to suck either way, but Jason could do without the pain.

As if reading his thoughts, Roman pipes up: “Come on Hood, a little omega like that can’t be that big.”

Some of the alphas laugh. Jason hunches his shoulders at the sound, at the reminder that they're all there, watching them. Tim’s grip on his neck tightens, just barely, and Jason can’t tell if it’s reassurance or his own humiliation.

“You think he’s big enough to choke him?” One of the alphas asks and he isn’t laughing. The arousal in his voice sends another cold shiver over Jason’s skin.

Roman hums appreciatively. “I think we should find out, huh, sweetheart?”

That’s an order if Jason’s ever heard one. He snarls as best he can with Tim’s cock filling his mouth, keeping his teeth carefully sheathed, but drops his hand.

“Jason,” Tim says in a strangled little voice, as if any of this is up to either of them.

Before he can say anything else, Jason forces himself forward. It’s been a long time since he’s done this and Jason’s throat spasms the moment the tip of Tim’s dick hits it. He chokes but doesn’t dare pull back, forcing Tim’s cock past the automatic contraction of his throat. He can feel himself gagging, working over the thick weight of Tim where he’s stretching his esophagus wide. Above him, Tim makes a wounded sound that almost has Jason pulling back. But he _can’t_. Not if he wants to keep Tim safe - or as safe as he can be with Jason forcing himself on him like this.

God, it’s Tim’s cock that Jason is choking on. It’s _Tim_ in his throat. Tim’s hand on the back of his neck. And it’s not as if Jason wishes it were anyone else - because who the fuck would he wish this on? - but why does it have to be Tim?

“Jason,” Tim says, sharply, as Jason gags again, his nose pressed into the wiry hair at the base of Tim’s cock. 

Two hands land on his shoulders and force him back. Jason gasps for breath as his throat clears. A thick string of saliva loops from his swollen lips to the tip of Tim’s cock before snapping. The sight makes Jason’s stomach lurch.

“Stop! You don’t - you don’t have to -”

“Yes he does,” Roman interrupts, coldly. “Both you little birdies have to do exactly as I say. Unless you’d rather suck a real alpha cock?”

“No,” Jason snaps. His voice is already rough, as if he’s been sucking cock for hours. He hates it. He can’t look Tim in the face. “We’ll do it.”

If it means Tim doesn’t have to do this, then Jason will do almost anything. If Jason can protect him from the alphas in the room, he will, no matter what it takes. He just wishes it wouldn’t take _this_. He wishes this terrible ultimatum didn’t involve him raping his younger almost- _brother_.

“Good. Go on then, Timmy, choke him.”

Jason shifts his grip on Tim’s hips, leaning back in to take Tim into his mouth again.

“No,” Roman snaps and Jason jerks, inhaling sharply around the length in his throat. “Not like that. I want little Timmy to do it. Fuck his face.”

Against his better judgement, Jason’s eyes flicker up to Tim’s. The kid looks like Roman has smacked him, like Jason has been doing something _terrible_ to him and, fuck, it’s not like that’s a lie. Jason is - Jason is raping him, after all. That hollow-eyed look of pain on Tim’s face is his fault. This is all Jason’s fault.

“Fuck you,” Tim snarls but it’s weak and his hands settle in Jason’s hair despite his protest. Roman just laughs. Jason’s going to hear that laugh in his sleep. If he makes it out of this, that is.

“Jay,” and Tim’s voice is thick, as if he’s on the edge of tears, “I’m so sorry. I wouldn’t - I _won’t_ -”

Except, he does. Because he has to. And he’s as gentle as Jason thinks he can get away with, one thumb stroking over Jason’s cheek as he pulls his head down against him, forcing Jason over his cock again and again. Jason does his best to show that he doesn’t hold it against him - that it isn’t Tim’s fault - even as he chokes and gags, swallowing around him on each thrust, lapping at the head of his cock each time he pulls back to the tip. By the time Roman interrupts, Tim is shaking, his hands trembling where they cage Jason’s head. Thick globs of slick are trickling down the inside of Tim’s thighs, although Roman hasn’t made either of them touch him there, yet. Tim’s arousal and distress are a dizzying, nauseating mix in the air.

“That’s enough,” Roman says in a voice that’s heavy with his enjoyment. “We don’t want you to come before the main event, do we sweetheart?”

The alpha holding the camera - and Jason does _not_ want to think about what the last twenty minutes of film look like - snorts. “Shame to miss the money shot, though, ain’t it boss?”

“Nah,” someone else says, because there are more of them, watching this, seeing Tim and Jason be _violated_ for Roman’s pleasure, “I wanna see him cream in that pretty little pussy.”

Oh God, Jason’s going to be sick. He can feel it building behind his chest, the salty prickle of it in his mouth, his throat feels tight around the phantom press of Tim’s cock. The thought of...that. Of _that_ happening. Here. It makes his stomach feel inside out.

Roman must see it on his face, the bastard, because he smirks. Then he steps up beside them, close enough that the material of his slacks brushes Jason’s arm but carefully arranged on the opposite side of the camera, so he isn’t blocking the view. A heavy hand lands on the back of Jason’s neck - an alpha’s hand, nothing like Tim’s careful hold - thick fingers pressing into every sensitive spot. Jason feels his muscles tense, then relax. Fights against the instinctive desire to go boneless. Roman’s scent is overwhelming this close - one of the strongest alpha musks Jason has ever smelled, leather and iron and smoke. Jason breathes shallowly through his nose and forces himself not to throw off the touch.

A matching hand lands on Tim, drawing him close to Roman’s side. The alpha smirks again at Jason’s instinctive frown, leaning down to press that awful mask against Tim’s neck, mouthing over the scent gland there as if he’s teasing a bite. Tim shivers, wide, wet eyes blinking down at Jason and a snarl rips its way out of Jason’s throat before he can think better of it.

Roman laughs again, because this is amusing to him. Because forcing Tim and Jason to rape each other is the sort of shit he does for fun.

“Don’t worry baby. I’m more interested in seeing him fuck you.” A gloved hand grabs at Tim’s crotch, palming over the thick erection there, making Tim jolt and whine. “Speaking of, you’d better put this to use, little birdy, before our audience gets bored.”

“No,” Tim whispers, in a shaky little voice that makes Jason’s chest hurt. “I won’t hurt him.”

Jason tenses for the retribution but none comes. Roman just hums thoughtfully. He presses his thumb against Jason’s swollen bottom lip, slow, liquid pain. 

“It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think princess?” The thumb slips past Jason’s lips, warm leather pressing down hard against Jason’s tongue. “Still, I’m sure my men won’t mind making use of him, if you really can’t do it. They can help you out with that slick you’re leaking too. You might even enjoy it.”

“No,” Jason tries to say, but it’s muffled around the digit in his mouth. He meets Tim’s eyes, frantically trying to convey that he’s alright with this. That this is better. That it fucking sucks and it’s awful, but Tim shouldn’t sacrifice himself like that for _Jason_. 

Tim’s eyes are two dark holes in his face. He looks as sick as Jason feels. 

“Fine,” Tim spits, trembling in Roman’s hold. His face is tense with pain. “I’ll do it. I’ll… _rape_ him.”

Despite everything, Jason flinches at the word. It’s not as if he hasn’t used it already in his own head. It’s not as if what they’ve already done isn’t rape, anyway, because it’s not as though either of them wanted that blowjob. But hearing Tim say it, cold and clear and furious, makes Jason’s chest burn hot with shame.

“That’s a good little pup,” Roman coos. 

His grip on Tim shifts, hard fingers pressing into his shoulder and forcing the kid to the ground. Kneeling in front of Jason like this, Tim looks painfully young. And it’s not exactly fair to call him _fragile_ because there’s power in the kid’s frame, lean muscle built from years of training, but beside Jason’s bulk, he looks it.

“Best lay down, Hood. My men are eager for the finale.”

Jason takes a deep, steadying breath before tipping himself backwards. The floor of the warehouse is rough against his back. His head knocks against the concrete and Jason wishes he had his helmet on, to cushion his skull a little and so that the alphas in the room, the _camera_ , can’t see his face. So that Tim won’t have to look at the pain there.

There’s a moment of silence. Jason stares blankly at the ceiling and tries to quash the queasy anticipation in his gut. He’s done this before too. Lie back and think of England. That’s all he has to do. Then he and Tim can get out of here and start pretending this never happened.

“Go on, then,” Roman snarls.

Shuffling. Then a hand touches Jason’s thigh, light and cool, and Jason flinches at the contact. The hand lifts automatically, hovers awkwardly in the air above him for a few seconds, before settling back against him. This time Jason manages not to flinch.

“It’s okay,” Jason murmurs. He shifts his legs, parting them enough to allow TIm to settle between them. It exposes him to the room and the camera, but it’s not as though they won’t be seeing far worse in a few moments, anyway. “Just do it, Tim.”

“I can’t,” Tim chokes, even as his hand trails up to the curve of Jason’s groin. Cool, slim fingers press inwards, sliding past the weight of Jason’s limp cock and balls, straight to his core. Jason jerks and Tim makes another little wounded noise above him. “Jason, I can’t.”

“Yes, you can,” Jason grinds out through gritted teeth. “Just fucking do it, Tim.”

He shouldn’t be doing this - convincing Tim to _rape_ him, encouraging the kid to do something he so clearly doesn’t want to do. But they don't have a choice. Jason doesn’t want to find out how quickly Roman will get bored with this. He doesn’t want to find out what he'll do when that happens.

Tim swallows hard enough that Jason can hear the wet movement of his throat. His fingers tremble where they’re pressed against Jason. Then, one slides through Jason’s folds and slips _in_.

It’s only a finger so it doesn’t hurt, exactly. But Jason is dry and utterly unaroused and the sensation of Tim’s finger working its way into him has his stomach dropping. He grinds his teeth hard against the hollow nausea in his stomach, trying to distance himself from the feeling of Tim _inside_ him. He’ll remember this moment, he knows, every time Tim touches him, every time he sees those clever fingers moving. He’ll remember what it felt like to have them touch him like this.

Too soon, a second finger presses in beside the first. Jason can’t stop himself from grimacing. Feels his leg twitch at the sudden intrusion. Immediately, both fingers retreat and Jason would sigh in relief, except he has no idea what Tim is doing. Why he’s pulled away from him at that first tiny hint of pain.

Before he can stop himself, he lifts his head to look at Tim. The kid has both fingers in his mouth - and despite just sucking Tim’s cock, Jason’s stomach does a disgusted little flip at that, at the fact that those fingers had just been _inside him_ \- laving his tongue around the digits to get them as wet as possible. It won’t be as good as real lube or Jason’s slick, but it’s not likely that Roman is going to supply them with the things they need and Jason doesn’t think he’ll be producing much slick anytime soon.

When Tim catches him looking, he grimaces, mouth pulling down around the intrusion of his fingers. The tears glittering in his eyes have spilled over, streaking long furrows down his cheeks. Jason’s gaze immediately skitters away. It’s pathetic, but Jason can’t look at him. Can’t bear to see the fear and repulsion on his face.

Wet fingers touch him again. One slips in - a little easier this time - followed quickly by the second. It’s still too much but Jason manages not to grimace this time. Tim works quickly - who knows how long Roman will indulge them like this? - but carefully and Jason feels hot and sick and _awful_. The wet sounds of Tim’s efforts are loud in the otherwise quiet room - probably loud enough for the camera to pick up. So are the rough breaths of the gathered alphas, their low murmurs and the rustle of fabric as they enjoy the scene. Jason stares up at the ceiling and tries to pretend they aren’t there. Tries to pretend that he’s at his safehouse with...with someone he _wants_ to be with. Someone who isn’t being forced into this as much as he is.

Despite everything, heat is pooling in Jason’s lower abdomen. He can feel himself starting to produce slick. He can hear it in the wet schlick of Tim’s fingers as he thrusts them gently in and out of Jason. Against his thigh, he can feel his own cock twitch, taking hesitant interest in the proceedings and, Christ, Jason doesn’t want this. It’s not likely to be enough to make what’s going to happen comfortable and he doesn’t want to get off on this. He doesn’t want Tim to think that he’s _enjoying_ their violation. He doesn’t want to give Roman the satisfaction.

Except, Roman notices, because of course he does. “You like that?” He asks, a little breathless. “Baby brother’s fingers doing it for you, Hood?”

Before Jason can snarl in response, Tim growls. It’s a low, possessive sound that Jason would expect to hear from an alpha. With Tim hunched over him, the smell of both their slick and fear in the air, that growl reverberating through his chest, Jason feels strangely small, despite the fact that he’s bigger than Tim by a good amount.

Roman growls back and it’s a true alpha sound that has Tim cringing above him. Jason’s chest feels too tight to breathe. Fuck Roman. _Fuck_ him. When Jason gets out of this, he’s going to kill him. Long and slow and painful. Bruce probably wouldn’t even stop him, not if the man found out about what Roman did to Tim. 

God, Jason hopes he doesn’t find out.

“Come on,” Roman snarls. “A filthy slut like Red Hood doesn’t need preparation for a little _omega_ cock. Just fuck him already.”

Tim tenses further. For a wild moment, Jason thinks he might lunge at Roman. And, normally, Jason wouldn’t stop him. In fact, any other time, Jason would probably try to get to Roman first. Except, right now the two of them are butt-naked, with no weapons or armour or gear and Roman and his lackeys are fully armed, with their guns pointed at their heads.

So Jason closes one hand around Tim’s arm. Feels the muscles bunching under his palm. Tim looks down at him, eyes wide and shiny, tears clumping his lashes into spiky peaks.

“It’s okay,” Jason says again, because he has no idea what else to say. He shifts his grip to Tim’s neck, stroking his thumb carefully over the swollen scent gland beneath his jaw and Tim whimpers. “It’s gonna be fine, Tim. This isn’t your fault.”

He can tell Tim doesn’t believe him, but the kid leans forward and presses his forehead to Jason’s, anyway. When he shifts, his cock rubs up against Jason’s thigh, hot and wet at the tip. Feeling it like that, Jason isn’t sure if it’s going to fit - not while he’s tight and dry and terrified.

“How is it not my fault?” Tim whispers, his breath hot against Jason’s face. “I’m going to _rape_ you.” 

“Jesus, Tim,” Jason snaps, because he doesn’t want to have this conversation here, on camera, in front of a bunch of alphas who care so little about consent that they’d happily gang rape them at Roman’s request. Tim knows this isn’t on him. He _knows_ Jason is as much a rapist here as he is. “Just do it.”

Before Tim can protest again, Jason grips his hip and drags him closer, layering him over Jason’s chest. Both of Tim’s hands jerk out to catch himself, one landing beside Jason’s head, the other clutching at Jason’s hip. The fingers digging into his skin are damp but Jason is decidedly not thinking about that. He’s not thinking about anything. Just blank it out and let his body do the work - that’s all he needs to do. He doesn’t need to be present for this.

“For God’s sake, stick it in him.”

Tim jolts at the sound of Roman’s voice. His face creases in anguish above Jason, before abruptly smoothing out. He shifts a little, repositioning himself, then the hot, wet tip of his cock is poking at Jason’s entrance, sliding jerkily through his folds.

This is it. There’ll be no going back from this. No pretending this didn’t happen. It’s going to fucking break them.

Tim thrusts into him slowly, easing his cock into Jason’s cunt with short, jerky movements. It’s so much bigger than the fingers had been and it _hurts_ , dragging against Jason’s dry walls, only the barest amount of slick to ease the way. Jason grits his teeth against the wounded sounds that want to escape. He can’t stop himself from grimacing, though, his face contorting in pain. It’s hardly the worst thing he’s ever felt - getting beaten to death with a crowbar and blown the fuck up tops that list - but, somehow, it feels it. It feels as if he’s being torn apart from the inside out, shredding his guts to tattered pieces and hollowing out his chest.

Above him, Tim’s face hangs like the moon, pale and too-close. More tears are streaming over Tim’s cheeks. His breaths are hot against Jason’s face, short pants of effort, trembling with wet little sobs on every exhale. Jason can’t bear it. He can’t have Tim leaning over him like this. He can’t have their faces so close, their mouths almost touching, as if they might kiss.

With his grip on Tim’s nape, Jason pulls the kid’s head down, tucking his face into Jason’s neck. It means Jason doesn’t have to look up into his agonised expression and it hides Tim from the camera. Or, hides his face from the camera, because the rest of him is painfully exposed. He can feel Tim inhale shakily against his skin. Jason doubts the smell there is particularly reassuring, full of his own bitter pain and fury.

“I’m sorry,” Tim murmurs, his lips pressed to Jason’s throat. Each thrust is shaky and shallow. Jason can feel his muscles flexing beneath his skin, hips twitching with every movement. It hurts, but Jason’s gone through worse. He can do this. “God, I’m so sorry.”

“Harder,” Roman orders, before Jason can say anything to that. There’s a shuffle of more than one pair of feet - both Roman and the cameraman moving to better spots. Jason wants to smash that fucking camera. Kind of wants to fucking blind them. “Fuck him harder.”

The sob Tim lets out then is loud and ragged against Jason’s ear. His hips stutter painfully before picking up again in a stronger, steadier rhythm. As if in apology, Tim mouths lightly over Jason’s neck. His tongue finds Jason’s scent gland and the sudden pressure sends a shiver over Jason’s skin. Despite himself, he can feel more slick leak out of him, easing the way a little and the thought of that - of Jason reacting to _Tim_ like that - turns his stomach so abruptly that he’s genuinely worried he might be sick.

“Tim,” he manages to gasp without letting out the awful little whimper that’s building in his throat.

“I know,” Tim whispers. His face is wet where it’s pressed against the curve of Jason’s jaw. He doesn’t stop working his hips, driving into Jason in painful strokes. “I’m sorry.”

Damp lips touch his skin as Tim presses his face hard against Jason’s throat. Jason swallows around the horrible lump there, blinking wetly up at the ceiling and tries not to think about it. Tries not to feel it. He knows Tim is trying to be nice - trying to comfort him - but he wishes he wouldn’t. Because every little gesture of kindness is just another reminder that it’s _Tim_ who’s doing this. That it’s not just Jason trapped in this nightmare with no feasible way of escape.

It seems to go on forever, Jason on his back, Tim leaning over him, thrusting into him, the awful little sobs and even more awful, reluctant sounds of pleasure. There are other noises too - the wet sound of Tim moving inside him, the slap of flesh-on-flesh from the meeting of their hips and, further away, some of the alphas working at themselves. Some of them are talking too - throwing insults or suggestions at them, complaining about the view, sometimes, or just cursing under their breaths. Jason is trying to ignore them because the last thing he needs right now is to acknowledge the audience they have, but it’s easier said than done.

“Bite him!” One of them growls.

“Fuck his ass,” another shouts.

Heavy footsteps. A burst of alpha scent, thick and cloying. A hand lands on the back of Tim’s head, fisting in his hair and yanking him backwards. Tim lets out a startled sound of pain and Jason jerks beneath him at the sudden movement. The sight of Roman’s gloved fingers twisted into Tim’s hair has his stomach flipping.

“Enjoying yourself, baby?” Roman purrs. “He’s a pretty little slut huh?”

Tim growls again. Naked and tear-streaked, it doesn’t make for a particularly threatening sight.

“Don’t touch him,” Jason snarls because the last thing he wants is for Roman to involve himself. 

Roman just tuts at him, shifting his grip so he’s pressing hard against Tim’s scent glands.

“So rowdy. You need a real alpha to tame you, Hood. A little omega cock isn’t enough.” 

Roman smirks, or, at least, Jason thinks he’s smirking. Then he drops to a crouch beside them. The hand not holding onto Tim snakes between them. Before Jason has a chance to protest, two thick fingers force their way in alongside Tim. Jason chokes. Let’s out a strangled noise that he wishes had stayed behind his teeth.

Tim’s eyes go wide and he jerks back. The grip on his neck keeps him from pulling away fully, but he does slip out of Jason and it’s a relief to not have him filling him up, even as Roman’s fingers slide deeper. 

“Stop it,” Tim snaps, even though he’s dangling from Roman’s grip like a naughty puppy. Even though they’re here at Roman’s fucking orders, pressed together beneath the stares of all those hungry alphas. “We’re doing what you want. Please. Please don’t touch him.”

“Sweet,” Roman hums. He pumps his fingers idly into Jason for a moment, head tilted as he considers Tim. With the heavy press of Roman’s scent in the air, with the alpha’s attention on Tim and his fingers inside him, Jason can’t help but whimper. “A slut like Red Hood needs more than just your cock though. Maybe my men have a point. I’m sure his ass will be tight enough for even a little cock like yours.”

Oh god. Roman can’t really mean that. He can’t - he can’t expect Jason to take it up the ass on a filthy concrete floor with nothing but spit and whatever lingering slick is still coating Tim’s cock to ease the way.

Tim recoils as far as he can with Roman’s hand still gripping his neck. There’s a frantic look on his face, a distinctly omegan expression that Jason has seen on plenty of victims before. He wonders if his own face matches it.

“You’re not…” Tim manages, his eyes wide and shiny as he stares at Roman. “No. _Please_ , we’ve done everything you’ve asked.”

“Well, now I’m saying that I want you to fuck Hood’s ass.” He uses his grip on Tim to shove him down again as he says it. Tim’s cheek slides over Jason’s in a sick parody of the way they sometimes scent each other - if Jason’s in the mood to indulge his pack. “And I ain’t asking, pretty bird.”

At least Roman pulls his fingers free, although it’s little consolation when Jason feels Tim’s dick slide over his cunt, then further back, pressing at the tight ring of muscle between Jason’s cheeks. For a moment, Tim struggles. One of his hands braces against the floor in an attempt to push himself upright again. The other goes to his mouth and Jason doesn’t want to think about those fingers pushing inside him again. He doesn’t want to be here.

Roman catches Tim’s wrist before they make it, though, swinging one leg over so he’s straddling them both, his hips pressed against Tim’s back, keeping the omega’s head down with a firm grip. The insane urge to punch him surges through Jason so strongly that his muscles twitch. To claw and hit and bite. To get Roman the fuck away from them. To get them both free.

If it weren’t for the other alphas in the room and the guns pointed at their heads, Jason would. Instead, he just lies there as Roman shifts his grip to Tim’s hips, limp and pliant and _useless_.

“I thought you weren’t going to touch us,” Jason says and it’s meant to be a snarl but it’s too weak, too soft.

“I won’t have to if little Timmy behaves himself.” Roman lifts one hand, gesturing to someone out of Jason’s eyeline. “Pass me the camera. I want to get a good shot of this.”

Jason’s stomach lurches and he turns his head as far as he can to the side, suddenly afraid he might vomit right over Tim. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the flash of the camera lense, pointed right at his face. Without Roman’s hand on the back of his neck, Tim’s head comes up. Jason slams his eyes shut before he can see the expression on his face, or on Roman’s where he looms behind him.

A hand forces its way between them again and Jason tenses, despite knowing that will probably only make this worse. Roman doesn’t touch him though - at least, not purposefully. Although, his knuckles brush against Jason as he strokes Tim’s cock.

Tim makes a soft, pained sound. Jason grits his teeth hard against the surge of hopelessness in his throat. It’s not - it’s not as bad as watching Roman actually fuck Tim, Jason tells himself. At least Roman isn’t physically hurting him.

It's a small consolation.

“Go on, sweetheart,” Roman says, almost a groan. “Let’s see some action.”

The hand retreats but Roman doesn’t. Above him, Tim whimpers. Then, pressure against Jason, hot and insistent. Jason imagines Roman’s hand on Tim’s hip, forcing him forward and then - 

It _hurts_. It hurts worse than anything else that’s happened so far and Jason can’t stop the pained groan that punches out of him. At least it isn’t a scream, although Jason can feel one, trapped in his throat. Tim chokes out an answering moan, pleasure and disgust and terror rolled into one low sound. Jason tries to block it out, tries not to hear it, but he knows this is something he won’t be able to forget.

When Tim pulls out and thrusts back in, slow and jerky, it drags a sob from Jason. Moisture gathers at the corners of his closed eyes, beading on his skin before spilling over, streaking wet lines over his temples. Pathetic. He’s so Goddamn pathetic. Jason isn’t supposed to be crying. He’s supposed to be strong - indifferent. He’s not supposed to be making Tim feel any _worse_ about this awful violation he’s being forced to perform on them both.

And worst of all, Jason knows the tears will be caught on Roman’s fucking camera. He knows the alphas in the room will be getting off to the sound of his pain. And it’s so wrong. It’s _sick_ and Jason wishes he could just stop crying but now he’s started he can’t stop. Every stuttering thrust punches another sob out of him, spilling more tears over his cheeks. Terrible little whimpers leak out of his swollen lips with every jagged burst of pain.

Tim is crying too - has been this whole time - whispering “sorry, sorry, sorry,” into Jason’s skin. Jason wishes he had the words to tell him this isn’t his fault. Wishes he could somehow reassure him, but his throat is too thick and Jason doesn’t think he can open his mouth without the scream that’s buzzing in his chest escaping. 

Eventually, the slide of Tim’s cock inside of him gets a little easier. Jason knows it’s blood that’s smoothing the way and the thought has bile licking at the back of his throat. It hurts less now, although Jason still can’t seem to stem the wounded noises coming out of him. His whole body feels numb. He wants this to be over. He isn’t sure how much longer he can do this.

As if reading his mind, Tim thrusts jerkily into him a few more times before coming with a strangled gasp, shuddering against Jason as hot liquid spurts up inside him. It burns against Jason’s ragged insides, squeezes a few more tears out of him as Tim sobs against his neck. Behind them both, Roman groans, long and low, before grabbing at Tim’s neck, forcing him against Jason’s throat with a hard grip.

“Bite him,” Roman orders, “unless you want me to do it.”

Tim doesn’t even protest. Jason feels him take a shuddering breath. Then, sharp teeth digging into his flesh. More pain. The nauseating swoop of Jason’s stomach as Tim’s mark is pressed into his skin.

A crash. Startled shouts. Gunfire. The sound of fighting.

Jason shuts his eyes and lets himself stay limp. The weight above him disappears. Cool air brushes his skin.

“Jason?”

It’s Bruce’s voice, low and steady. That’s the only reason Jason opens his eyes, blinking against the blurry remnants of tears. Batman’s cowl swims into view. Beneath it, Bruce’s mouth is a thin black line.

“B?” Jason manages through his aching throat. He turns his head. Beside him, Tim is kneeling on the ground, Nightwing’s arms wrapped tight around him. Dick’s face is a mask of horror. “Tim?”

Wide blue eyes meet his. There’s blood around Tim’s mouth.

“We’re here,” Bruce murmurs. There’s a rustle of fabric. A weight drops over Jason - Bruce’s cape. “You’re safe.”

Jason closes his eyes again, just in time to miss Tim throwing up violently all over the warehouse floor.

**Author's Note:**

> I have a tumblr at [bearly-writing](https://bearly-writing.tumblr.com/) if you fancy dropping by for a chat!


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